Already Damned
by mabel-but-slytherin
Summary: Maka's spent her whole life in a cult dedicated to the demon Kellior, yet the day she's meant to give up her soul to live her life she quickly finds her destiny and her world being torn away by Alcor, the demon who apparently already has a claim on her soul. Everyone says she's better off, that she's safe now, but is life on the outside any better when she's damned either way? TAU.
1. Chapter 1

This fic was fun to get done for the ficathon, not using a prompt because I needed to get it done.

Happy this is up mainly because it's been growing in my head ever since writing a gift fic for marypsue's Reincarnation Blues on tumblr, who may or may not remember getting me telling her about this story soon after, which was... *checks watch* *checks calendar* four months ago (yes, I'm really far behind on writing fics. I know).

I'll apologize in advance for not having the time to actively update this fic, or any of my TAU fics (which actually all tie together because once multiple plot-bunnies have been running around in my head long enough they start cannibalizing each other). I'll post some worldbuilding later this week on tumblr, about how they play into each other, but for now enjoy this dark little piece of corner.

Trigger warning for a little blood and a lot of implied gore.

* * *

Maka felt the comforting fingers trailing through her long hair like nails on a chalkboard grating down her spine. Feeling the teen's tense back, Aunt Beth sent her an understanding smile in the mirror's reflection that sent Maka sheepishly back to reviewing her notes.

"It's okay to be nervous, you know." Beth soothed as she smoothed out the white dress all girls wore for their first ceremony to symbolize the innocence of the sacrifice. "The Offering is a complicated ritual for the first, but once you've done it you'll truly be one with the community, and I'm sure you'll be leading everyone in even bigger rites soon enough, just like your father."

Beth's voice took on a reverent tone as she mentioned Papa, a lesser version of the awe usual reserved for the Master. Papa was the human head of the cult, while Mother was in charge of the living arrangements. Just that alone was enough to have the entire community speaking of Maka's true initiation, the time she could summon the Master herself and truly join the ranks, with hushed expectations.

The small gift of Sight that had run through Maka's dreams ever since she was twelve made the community's expectations suffocating.

"I-I'm not scared." Maka intoned, looking back up at Beth's reflection, who just smiled knowingly at the glare. "It's just- I had a dream last night."

"Oh?" Her aunt's face asked for details with a look of wonder. Rarely was it anyone but Papa who got to hear of Maka's dreams firsthand.

"I… I don't remember much of it. Any of it, really." Beth's eyes fell just as Maka's rose to meet them. "All I know is that it was dark. And bad."

Beth didn't know what to do as Maka's shoulders shook at remembering even the haze of her nightmare. The teen's voice shook as she shuddered, "Does it mean, something, Aunt Beth? Should I be scared?"

Beth could've sworn that in that moment she felt as much power in the air as she had during her own Offering. The pause seemed to stretch on as Maka stood frozen before the mirror, almost ready in appearance but having last minute doubts. Recognizing her duty, Beth quashed that foreign feeling clawing up her spine and put the most sincere smile she could as she took in her niece.

"I'm sure that if you don't remember it then it was nothing but an illusion. Today's your Offering, dear, it's a time for truth and falsehoods have no bearing." Maka's eyes shone with acceptance, as if she could accept Beth's words as easily as Papa's preachings. When the girl wasn't looking, Beth reached up to cradle her talisman, the one Maka would receive by the end of the night.

"You know, on the morning of my Offering, I spent the entire time wondering what the Master looked like. I had tried to guess how many horns he had, or how long his claws would be. I even wrote down some estimates in the margins of my notes so I could compare them later! And boy was I way off!" Beth let out a heavy laugh, and when Maka hesitatingly followed, she knew her job was done.

"There's nothing to worry about, dear. You'll be fine." Tying the single white bow into her long, black hair as a finishing touch, Beth took a step back and took in her niece as a child for the final time. "You're perfect. And you'll do perfectly. But if you need a moment I can tell your father that I dropped the straightener. Are you still nervous?"

Maka had gathered herself back into a strong face, the expression that Papa always wore unless behind closed doors, one that could lead a group of people to Hell and back. She tried not to stumble, but Beth could've swore for a second that the stone face cracked.

"I'm terrified."

* * *

The temple was packed when Maka walked in alone.

Granted, it was always packed, seeing as the Master deserved to have everyone in attendance for every ceremony barring the severely ill or injured, but today even the most infirm had been moved to witness Papa's daughter's Offering.

She kept her head high and avoided the eyes of the fellow children as they all moved to her, whispers that the youngest were still apt to make in the temple dying down at her appearance. Pushing herself forward Maka reminded herself that she wasn't one of them anymore, today she was becoming an adult. No longer would she have to sit in the back of the temple, turned away so she could not accidentally hold the gaze of the Master before she was promised. Today she would meet him face to face and give up her soul.

The Offering itself still made her balk, but she knew that to object or question it would not end well. The one time she had asked Papa about it before bed made him turn completely red, and she noticed how the ones who seemed lackluster about it were scarily the ones chosen as sacrifice when the Master needed to be appeased.

But appeasing was just a normal part of life besides the Offering, one that no one felt the need to mention. Maka had heard that there were people elsewhere in the world who were lived barbaric lives compared to them, who refused to call upon the supernatural creatures to offer them protection, who even feared beings like the Master and who had reason to, they were safe because of His favor, after all.

Her musings had brought her almost the entire way to the altar, where the untouched chalk and polished knife were resting in the center. She caught Papa looking in her direction and saw him nodding slightly, which turned into a reproachful shake of the head as he recognized her eye contact that had Maka looking away. She was Offering herself freely, and she needn't have any outside pressure that could appear to be coercing her.

She made sure not to bit her lip as she drew out the summoning circle, and instead filled herself with determination as every symbol came into being across the altar. Maka had been tutored on drawing sigils since she could hold a quill, and although the teen had never drawn the entire circle to call the Master (that was reserved for only true ceremony) the girl had no doubt she could do it perfectly.

The sixteen-year-old stood as she finished the circle, resisting the urge to wipe the chalk dust off her dress and legs. With practiced pace she lit the sixteen candles at each tip of the figure, and moved to the center where only the knife laid untouched on the floor. Maka closed the handle in her fingers, and twisted the blade once in her right hand, unused to the weight in her in-dominant grasp.

She closed her eyes for only a brief second, and the silent room around her seemed to breathe at once. Even from behind closed lids, Maka could imagine Papa's loving smile whenever his daughter proved she could play a crowd almost as well as he did.

Opening her eyes to gaze above the gathered community, Maka straightened her back and let the practiced summoning specially made for the Offering roll of her tongue, " _ **Custos animarum de eversor profanum hujus sanctæ humi invocaverimus te. Patronus qui suscitavit me, populus meus gratis hostiam carnem consideremus. Meorum liberum arbitrium non alligo me ad vos ...**_ "

Maka had to pause for breath, and she felt the heat in the air that was there before, the smoke from the sixteen flickering candles making the room seem to be as dark as twilight at noon. Slicing the tip of the knife into her palm, Maka felt the sting of the initial cut and then of the pooling blood. Cupping her fingers to not let any of the red liquid spill onto the seal, she called out her own promise. _**"Master! Souleater! Kellior! I offer up my soul for your protection, and for that of my family and people! Face me and call it a deal!"**_

The room flinched at her cry, and it took everything Maka had not to stumble back herself at her brazenness. The oath was unscripted, was supposed to be the individual seal each cultist had with Kellior, so why should her mouth have to choose _now_ to run away from her for the first time?

Yet despite her ability to stay in place, the shock had caused Maka to flinch, which was just enough to spill a drop of crimson blood through her fingers onto the center of the summoning wheel below. The girl didn't dare break her concentration to look down at it, bigger mistakes had been made in successful Offerings, but her blunders and her daring were adding up fast. Maka tried to sink her shoulders, appear meeker in hopes she could salvage everything, already starting to wonder if her Offering was doomed to fail from the start.

' _Maybe the dream from last night_ was _a sign. Maybe I should have put it off.'_

And the half-remembered nightmare came to light right before the girl, or would've if Maka had taken a glance at the floor. The blood had gained a slight tail as it fell, and hit the altar with a resounding _*DRIP*_ as it splattered into the impossible shape of a star. There was a gasp from the temple as thirteen candles simultaneously flickered out of existence, and the remained three surrounded Maka in a triangle of light that cut through the haze suddenly as black as midnight. An unholy chuckle echoed from every corner of the space, somehow centering right in front of Maka as a creature solidified in front of her that her mind screamed was _not_ her Master.

The demon looked like a twisted version of a man, with a suitcoat inhumanly long and form-fitting, with gold quickly spreading in a brick-like pattern and black wings arcing from his lower back to block Maka's view of the crowd- of her family, friends, and everyone she knew in the community- as he settled into this world to face her.

The only thing Maka could register, however, was his inhuman black and gold eyes and monstrous fangs hanging from his mouth, which snarled at her in a bad impersonation of a cold smile.

" _ **Ẇͥͭ̂͏͖̟̱̦h̡̙̭̜̦̱̭͔̏ͪͪͤo̟͙̺͓ ̐̔ͬ̂̈́͏͍̙̱̣̱̘s̛͙̭̳ͤͩͦ͛ͯa̼̘̬̳̥̒͐͑̕i͉͖̙̙̬̤͕͂̏̇͛̓ͪ̿d ̡̝͍͉̺̯͔̠ͩy̬͚̺̰̜o͋̏ͫ̓ͩ̎ͤu̚r̳̘͊̋̀̎͡ͅ ̻͇̞̝͙͈͂́ͅs͇̳͈̬̘̲̞̓̇̈́̈́͐ͪ͝ǒ̝̫̞̦͗͐͊̍͞ų̇͆ͭ͊ͩ͌͗l͒́ ̪͇̣̼̝̤ͭ̈́̽ͯw̞̺͍̍ͬͬ͞ä́͆̊͛s̶͉̥̯̄ ͦͥ̀̍̔̏y͗̓o̼̤̪̙̜͕ͨ͛̈́̑ͨͫ͑ǘ̪̗͕̭͍̖̳͌͗̐͂r̻͚͝s̲̥͎̞͈̫ͣͭͪ͆ͤ͗ ̷ͦ̅t̢̺̣͍̾o̞͉͡ ̭̠̼̗̗̥̘͜ǫ̪͈͕̼̘̹ͭf̔ͩ̎̄͏f̱̰̔ͨ̍ͫͯ͝e̢̲̼͕̤ͪ̌ͮ̓ͅr̴̘̎?̹͉̠̣͓̘̿̀?̸̤͓͈̩̪̹"**_

"Alcor..." Somehow Papa's hushed whisper made its way through then entire temple, which had in a second gone from crushingly loud to silent enough to hear a pin drop. Maka shivered at the word and how it only widened the demon's grin. She had never heard Papa sound so _scared_.

The demon's face almost seemed to soften as it took her in., at least that's what Maka found herself thinking as she stared into the eyes of the demon and saw the demon staring back. None of the features actually changed, and just a second later the girl felt the urge to shake her head at her imagination, despite being frozen in fear.

 _ **"**_ _ **M̰̲̳̓ͨ͗͂͒̃i̮̖̤͚̒ͣ̿ͮ͊̀͆z̜̤ͮ̔̑̚͠a͖͔̲̫͑̐ͧ͊͗rͥ̽̓̓͢. I'd been wondering where you were. Never would I have imagined th͙̠̪̦is."**_

And with that Alcor turned away from Maka, his wings instinctively folding back towards the girl to shield her from what was about to ensue.

" _͇͙A̞̼̘͢n͢d͏ ̡͕͉͎̥̩͚͍w̭h̬̰͓̥̜͠ò̙̞͓̮̖ ͎̳̭͉̀ͅh͔̱͔̙e͍̕r̟͈̗e̵̫̬ t̩̩̱͎̻͖h̜͎̼̲̀o͎̬͚͙̝͞u̷̬g͡h͜t̠̻̰͢ ̖ț̵̼͕h͢e͉̞͉͓̺y͙̤̘̱͕̟ ҉̥͍̱͈̱̖ͅc̢ơ̳̰ͅͅu̯͓l̶̖d̻͖̤̝̻̜͜ ̵țr͇̭̝̝̘̱͠y͏͙̗̮̝ ͜t̫͙̞͟ͅo͏ ͇̻̘͉̖͔ͅs̨̟̹̤̜͈e̴̝̖̩͕̹̳l͓̼̱͈͝l ̡͇̯͇̠ͅw̴̲h͟ͅa͖̩̜̣t̠̲͓͓͇'̶̙̱̪̞͎s̙_ _ **̶̴̞̦͕̯͍͓̥̭̻̪̞̳̣͉̗͖̟ͨ̽ͦͪ́ͦ̓́͠ͅ ͑ͣ̿͒ͯ͋̅̈̽̔͏̡̛͓̻͎̜̦m̸͓̤͚͖̩͚̙̻͈͆ͯ͒̿͜͠͠͝i͂͑͂̒̓̃͂ͨ̿͊̒̓̾̅̃ņ̸̛̟͕̠̻̬̬̬̉́ͣ̊͑ͭ̓̊̽͒͒͛͘e͛̆͂̎̎͐͑?͌ͬ̊̽̄̆̓̽̃̾̍ͮ͠͡"̵͓̤̮̣̯̳͇̱̀**_

* * *

Alcor hadn't felt the pull of a summons in a _long_ time. It had been even longer since he'd answered one. Besides the little… _anomaly_ a few decades ago (or was it nearing a century, Alcor had long since stopped keeping track of such insignificant intervals of time), the Dreambender hadn't been summoned by anyone besides curious researchers trying to verify his continued existence in at least a couple hundred years. It was silly how after a short amount of time humanity just assumed he had moved on, whether to death or even godhood (although given how little Alcor even resembled a demon at times he had to admit it was not such a far-out possibility).

That didn't mean that Alcor didn't interact with the human dimension anymore. There were times when he didn't, when he would spend decades with the Flock in the Mindscape. The Flock had grown in number to the point where he needed to spend almost all his time just to know and care for them as he used to. But there was still one occasion he didn't dare miss on Earth. In fact, as of late he had simply taken to keeping count of the number of times he went to keep track of time.

The rebirth of Mizar.

Alcor could spend years watching each one, boy or girl (though his twin was being reincarnated as a male with increasing frequency lately) as they grew up and took on the world. He took the same precautions he had trained himself to follow back when Mabel had first started reincarnating: watching them invisibly until they were old enough to recognize who and what he was before introducing himself, first as an imaginary friend and then as the brother he so desperately wanted to be.

And as of late each and every Mizar turned him away.

Alcor had heard whisperings among the various parents about teaching their children to be safe around the supernatural, and he eventually picked up on whispers from other demons about similar troubling concerns: how fewer and fewer summonings were calling upon even the more popular demons, how almost every summon that still came through was from a large cult settings, and how exorcists seemed to be even closer on call in recent centuries than in the early years after the Transcendence. While once he could've simply continued to watch the Mizar's lives pass by from afar when they turned him down, improvements in artificial Sight and demon detectors made it harder. He could easily just pass unnoticed, but inevitably even he messed up, and the resulting fights, screams, and even hand-made exorcisms coming out of his twin's lips hurt him far deeper than the spells had any right to.

It had been _twelve_ Mizars. Over a millennium since he had just hung out with his sister. And that more than anything was enough to make Alcor stay away from human affairs.

After the latest in that line of Mizars, Alcor knew he should've been keeping a closer eye on her soul while it was taking a break from the cycle. But when he first went into the Library to find that one soul noticeably gone without immediately picking out a reincarnation he just assumed Mizar was giving him the silent treatment, _again_.

It wasn't until he felt the summons out of the corner of his mind that he realized how wrong he was.

Any summons, or any call that tried to bridge dimensions really, sends out a tiny shiver in the fabric of the very dimension it was crying out to. Normally that call could only be felt by the demon the summoner was invoking, who felt the force in its full force, whatever that may be. However, with a summons powerful enough, or a strong enough connection to the third party at question, it was possible for a powerful being to sense the ripple.

Alcor's head shot up as he felt this tickle on the edge of his omniscience. It felt like a summons, but after centuries without one he had to remind himself that _no,_ summons were not that much weaker than he remembered, but that this one was simply not meant for him. That was strange enough in itself that the demon simply _had_ to investigate the pull, even if it wasn't worth going all the way to Earth. He wasn't rude enough to hijack another demon's summons, after all.

Until what he felt made his teeth elongate into fangs and his sense devolve into fury.

The summons came to his attention because of the summoner. At the end of that thin strand through the Mindscape was Mizar, who was not crying out to meet her twin, but for the aid of some _other demon_.

A demon to whom she was _**offering h̞̲̤͖̘ḙ̵͈͉͙̥͖͕̦̀͢r̹͚̹͍ ̶̙̻̭͓̲̺͔̤ş̧̣̤̺̰͘o̳̘͍͘͞u͏͖͔l̗̝.**_

A drop of blood echoed across the connection, _her_ blood, strengthening the call to reach the demon who would surely take the feast if Alcor did nothing. In a flash the summons was his and he was facing her, in a body and life Alcor had never seen before, although he quickly noted that she was already a teenager - _sixteen, his omniscience supplied, it's her birthday_. Staring into the wide brown eyes and taking in the black hair framing her quickly-paling face, Alcor quickly deduced that this was too perfect, too _planned_ , to be a coincidence.

Turning around, the demon found himself facing a crowd of people, at least a hundred faces all paling simultaneously as they took in his unexpected appearance. No, this wasn't a bloody coincidence, this was _a ritual_. A dim voice in the back of his mind identified the short heads facing away as children, but all that was drowned out by the more demonic part of him screaming that they were not children or human but _witnesses_ who were standing by as Mizar was forced to give up what was _his_.

His eyes all too quickly froze on a couple in the front row who were clearly her parents, if scum who would raise a child to sell their soul could even be called such. Mizar's father's lips moved in a pattern that Alcor knew must be his name, and the demon only felt the vengeful grin that he had unknowingly plastered on his face stretch.

Oh, they thought that offering up sacrifices to another demon would appease _him_? These silly little cultists who had not only learned over the millennium that these groups did nothing for their life expectancies, but thought that they could get away with trying to barter with what wasn't even theirs to begin with? The way that man, their leader, thought he could whisper Alcor's name like a blessing and expect mercy, when he was trying to take away the one thing that reminded Alcor of what the mercy felt like after such a long existence?

 _ **They deserved nothing,**_ and it would all be okay because it meant that he could keep Mizar _sàf͘e_. Safer than they had kept her, and she could bring his humanity back if he just lost it of Maddie and Bentley went through his mind, and Alcor appeased the part of him that cried for him to stop with reassurances that he surely wouldn't be ignored by Mizar this time.

He was doing her a favor by destroying these pitiful humans. And she had already shown she was more willing to deal with demons than her most recent preincarnations.

* * *

Zalgo translations for the two sentences where it might be too much: "Who said your soul was yours to offer?" and "And who here thought they could try to sell what's **mine?** " Because Alcor's _kinda_ forgotten how to endear himself to humans.

Hope you enjoyed, and hopefully I'll have more time to write soon! I've been swamped with schoolwork and likely will be all semester, but this is definitely a fic that's been on the forefront of my mind the past four months, so I see no reason that'll change. I even have little snippets throughout the rest of the fic written down, seeing as it follows a couple other characters you all have yet to meet here.


	2. Chapter 2

First and foremost: serious warnings for blood, death, gore, minor flashbacks, and general trauma ahead. The title of the fic should cue you in that this is going to be darker than most TAU fics I've seen and very heavily in the teen rating, and this chapter is by far the worst of those I've planed out and likely the worst I will write. If you're squeamish, feel free to skip to the next chapter, I'll leave a quick recap there. If you have triggers regarding mental trauma or PTSD, you may want to consider not reading this fic. I've been doing some research and hoping to explore the themes here, so anyone feel free to send my notes or corrections if I'm doing something wrong.

On a brighter note, I'm so happy to see people enjoyed chapter one! We're going to get a good heaping of angst directly continuing with the action of last chapter and slowly starting the transition to the real heart of the fic!

To repeat: Trigger warnings for blood, gore, and trauma this chapter, including minor flashbacks.

* * *

Maka felt like she was reliving a nightmare.

In fact, she couldn't help but wonder whether she was awake or asleep as she stood frozen in the midst of the sullied altar as Alcor faced down the community that had raised her.

The room was dark, with a thick black and gold smoke that seemed to be both there and not, and strangely enough almost reminded Maka of the auras her Sight picked out in dreams. The candles all sat in their respective places flickering ominously, even the ones whose flames had gone out seemed to find some way to dance in place, as if they themselves were flickering out of existence, or as if there was something else playing across the wicks. The chalk of the botched Offering reflected their dim light, making the sigil seem to glow in Maka's mind, and every time her eyes danced away she could swear that the entire circle, not just the star that now crowned the center was red with blood.

But what was most hypnotizing of all were the wings that seemed to stretch out of the foreign demon- _Alcor_ \- into infinity as they melded perfectly with the haze, silver and gold stars suddenly bedazzling the appendages that seemed to twist impossibly backwards as if to cradle her. Somewhere deep within her mind, deep within her _soul_ , the pinpricks of light themselves seemed to whisper a haunting lullaby, calling her to sleep or distraction like counting sheep while their owner finished what _needed to be done_.

The very thought startled Maka back into reality. Yes, it was all too easy to merely imagine she was dreaming.

With the spell broken the echoing whispers were instantly overpowered by piercing shrieks and bloodcurdling cries of familiar lives being torn away. Maka slammed her palms over her ears hard enough to make her head spin and her legs go out as she thought she recognized a cousin's voice, the soul sacrifice quickly falling to meet the polished floor and white chalk that had moments earlier reflected imagined blood.

Except this time the altar beneath her was the clean part. And everywhere else was _soaked_ in the liquid.

As soon as Maka's knees hit the ground with a shock that jolted her head up, she found that her eyes couldn't tear themselves away from the sight of the temple beyond her stage. Alcor's wings (or what must be a spelled shade of them, seeing as the demon himself seemed to be detached from his limbs) still hovered in the air in front of where her head had been at, mysterious stars still twinkling in their increasingly forceful efforts to distract the soul they recognized as one of their own, to shepherd her to the Mindscape where she would be _safe_. Yet underneath the veil was an equally enrapturing, infinitely more gruesome sight.

Alcor the demon hovered in his monstrous glory before the quivering forms of the Community, turning to each member of Maka's family one-by-one as he tore them all to bits. There was no rhyme or reason to his madness, ripping his claws through Aunt Beth before turning to bite the head off of Cousin Susan and then merely snapping as Uncle Neil exploded into dust. Maka slammed her eyes shut to try to block out the world that had suddenly fallen apart around her and beat her fists into the ground.

 _Why was this happening? What did I do wrongWhyIsHeAfterME?_

Even their agony was defiled by the demon, whose own cries of malicious glee rose above the suffering of those undeserving of his laugh. The playful sounds of almost childish wonder Alcor let out as he fiddled with one of the children's guts etched itself into Maka's mind and made her try to scrunch her eyes even further in a vain attempt to make it all go away. Yet each time concern overruled self-defense from the senses, and Maka found the dark backs of her eyelids as much abandonment of her people and standing under Alcor's spell.

As the demon turned to face her mother Maka tried to gather up the strength to run forward, only to sag as the dread so much like a nightmare running through her mind told her that not even such a simple action could be performed. Letting her head fall onto the altar floor Maka kneeled as her eyes darted about, adrenaline pumping them to try to find something she could do, a weapon she could fight with to stop the demon before he took away any more of the too little she still had left.

Her gaze settled on the center symbol of the seal itself, blemished by the drop of her blood that somehow landed perfectly forming the cradled star she recognized from Alcor's tailcoat. With a rush of determination the priestess-in-training smeared the blood away and clasped her hands together in a final attempt at prayer.

"Kellior! _Kellior! Please hear my cry, your loyal people need you! Answer my call_ _ **please!-**_ " Maka felt her voice break, emotions filled to the brim and desperate to spill despite the adrenaline hammering through her veins to keep them in check. Out of the corner of her eye she detachedly noticed Alcor freeze before she closed further in on herself in the hopes that she could finally complete the summoning like she was supposed to and make this _**stop**_.

" _Kellior,_ _ **help me**_."

She could hear the swoosh of Alcor's hand striking the air and the sickening crack that sounded as all the screams were silenced, a dull thud of the remaining bodies the demon had shoved away falling to the floor the only noise before the temple was hauntingly empty besides the recurring choruses of Maka's pleas. In another beat of wind the demon was before her in all his bloody glory, his hand reaching out to her to smoother her and silence her before she could finally call upon her Guardian and-

A single finger settled a hairs' breadth from her lips, not touching her but silencing Maka all the same.

" _Shh. It's okay, Mizar. You're safe now_."

At the gentle sound an instinct deep inside Maka unscrewed her eyes, staring into the face of the demon before her. Gone was any trace of the monster who had been wreaking havoc moments ago, and now all that remained was a caring expression that almost looked human, almost looked like-

Maka twisted her gaze to try to look around the creature, to try to remind herself of the carnage and the chaos and the life he had taken away, but the golden eyes shining with concern were as dangerously hypnotizing as the stars earlier, and Maka could feel her soul inside her calm and her heartbeat faded to a normal rhythm.

Taking in the no longer panicking girl, Alcor let a soft smile paint his features. _She's Mizar. Deep down, she_ _ **knows**_ _._

The expression was just enough to shake Maka out of the enchantment.

Before she knew it Maka's instincts ran away with the second extremely brash and stupid move that day. _I am so going to get killed for this_ , was the only semi-coherent thought that ran through her brain as her left fist shot out and hooked Alcor right in the face.

"Get the Hell away from me you Buttface!"

Alcor's gaze was torn to the side as his head recoiled from the unexpected blow. He blinked towards the hastily retreating Mizar as he cradled his right cheek with his hand, already feeling the heat as it formed a golden bruise. _So they really could teach Mizar to join a demon-worshipping cult before getting her to properly swear_ , a part of his mind whispered. She truly was his sister's soul.

He took a step (or hover) towards Mizar as she backed up even faster, her arms shifting as they tried to find a defensive stance that could give even the illusion of keeping him back. Alcor raised his hands and let his wings unfurl slowly, trying to show Mizar that he had no desire to hurt her, that he did all this to _protect_ her, but the girl, _he still didn't know her name_ , only shook her head and seemed unwilling to listen to even the bits of calming magic he tried to settle on her mind.

It was too late that the demon realized, omniscience distracted by the tension of the situation, that Mizar was steadily approaching the edge of the circle, one of the three corners still dotted by a burning white candle, and with typical Mabel clumsiness she slammed into one of the posts, spilling the candle onto her and setting off a domino effect that would soon enough, Alcor's omniscience helpfully supplied a little too late, set the entire temple ablaze.

Yet despite her screams, Maka's eyes shifted to Alcor as soon as he darted even the slightest bit closer, rolling away in an attempt to both escape the demon and smother the flames catching on her white dress (which was quickly becoming stained with blood the second her side landed on the main temple floor) her eyes screaming out another desperate plea for him to stay away, one that suddenly reminded Alcor of the twelve Mizars before her.

As the light faded from her eyes into unconsciousness, Alcor could just make out the faint sound of sirens approaching, likely brought by the government after all the power the demon had just unleashed.

She would make it, omniscience supplied. Fairly unscathed, too. His vision flickered into the future of her sitting in a hospital, being cared for, being asked questions, but generally being allowed to rest. With a shock he recoiled as he saw with his own Sight the young Mizar being introduced to the world she had missed, things that he would only be delaying her from if he coddled her up in the Mindscape while waiting for her physical and mental scars to heal.

The part that was Dipper slowly started to re-emerge as the demon floated back and took the entirety of the temple in, shame and horror quickly overpowering everything else as the tiny hold he had on humanity realized what he had just done, what he had just done to _Mabel_ , and suddenly there wasn't anything Dipper could rationalize that would make him disagree that it was better for now to respect Mizar's wishes and stay away.

For now. Surely his loneliness would drive him back later. To heal her. To actually protect her. To maybe earn her forgiveness.

If only Dipper could fully remember how humans went about doing things like that.

* * *

The story instantly made the national news.

Deep in undeveloped parts of the Sonoran Desert authorities discovered the remains of what was obviously an active demonic cult. Evidence of regular human sacrifice, mainly children, was found during further investigations. The most disturbing report however, remains the initial breaking headline: over 500 cult members were found slaughtered upon authorities' arrival in what appears to be a botched summoning ritual. Only one person, a teenage girl, was found alive on the scene, and is in emergency care due to what sources say are non-life-threatening injuries.

Rumors are already flying about what could've caused the alert, or the deaths, as anonymous sources have stated that police were only tipped off about the site after a larger spike in demonic energy than has been report in over 700 years, with the exception of the later confirmed falsified readings found in Buoyancy Floats back in the 20s. Some say the burst was due to the large number of cultists, more than have been reported as attending a summoning in over 2000 years, and the largest known residential cult in recorded history. Others have been spreading more unlikely rumors, such as those suggesting that Alcor the Dreambender, the post-Transcendence demon typically regarded as the strongest demonic spirit, was behind the attack. Officials and academics seem skeptical given that the Dreambender hasn't had a confirmed sighting or summoning in over three centuries. Most demonologists still question Alcor's continued existence, as many suspect he has either faded away or transcended to another form of existence as his power dissipated without a summons.

Local and federal investigators are unsure of what more may be uncovered, but have warned families of missing persons in the area to be prepared for further news following future investigations.

First the country, and then quickly the world tuned in at the story that was quickly making the demonology history books. Articles were quickly published in all the demonology journals, more speculation than fact at this point, but still enough to earn the science more attention than it had in decades. Any type of analysis or explanation was being eaten up by anyone from experts to governments to Ariel Simons, lone rock star subscriber of Sigils Monthly, who scrunched up her face and stared at the paper for a minute after finishing the latest graduate student publication interpreting the charred remains of the lone summoning circle found.

And as the story evolved from the quickly-going-cold investigations to the rehabilitation of that one sole survivor, whose name was protected for privacy and security reasons but whose age and situation had already been made known, the public continued its outcry for information and justice, even if almost all the involved parties had already deceased.

Luckily, the media couldn't help but play the sixteen-year-old orphaned teen who had been raised into a deadly cult as anything but a victim, and the question of the fate of the Sonoran girl, the unconscious black-haired child shown in one leaked photograph from the scene, quickly set the stage for one of the closest examinations of the foster care system this century.

Child Services had already received a mountain of paperwork and phone calls investigating potential adoption the morning after that headline broke.

* * *

Maka opened her eyes to a sea of white and what sounded like a chainsaw going off near her ear.

She immediately startled at the flood of light and noise, snapping alert with a flinch as she tried to move her head to see the room around her to the side. Plain white ceilings weren't unusual, but this painful shade, combined with the strange sounds and smells of antiseptic and _burning_ flooding her nose and suddenly the dam broke and there was dark and _cries and things that were nothing like what just happened where am I what's happening?_

Swinging her head to her side did nothing, as the movement only made the girl aware of a foam brace keeping her neck in place.

In reaction to the movement a head suddenly leaned over Maka, obstructing the view of the white ceiling and startling the teen out of her thoughts. The woman was in her mid-thirties and was a face Maka had never seen before, which was strange. She had known everyone in the Community, and they knew her. The last new face she'd seen must've been-

Alcor. And with that came the detached realization that everyone was gone. Mostly everyone, perhaps there was still hope that someone was ali-

"Can you hear me?!" The woman was almost shouting, and belatedly Maka realized she must've been talking at a normal volume this whole time and was getting concerned by the lack of response, if the worried expression on her face meant anything.

Just seeing the teen's eyes focus on her was enough to get the woman to calm down. The nurse, Maka's brain supplied as it put together her condition with the sterilized surroundings. It could just be that everything Outside was like this, but somehow the teen knew that this being a hospital was much more likely.

"Good. I was worried there for a minute. The EMTs found no signs pointing towards brain or ear damage, but even with scans you can never really tell until the patient wakes up. I'm Monique, I'll be your primary nurse while we take care of you. What's your name?"

"Maka."

"Last name?"

"What?" Maka blinked. Monique's expression echoed the confusion for a second, before flashing with concern, before a stony façade rose up and the woman's face appeared just as caring as before the exchange happened.

"Well Maka, I can tell you that there are certainly quite a number of people out there interested in talking to you now that you're awake, but just hold still for a bit while I finish up here." The chainsaw-like sound started up again, and Maka felt that panic return for an entirely different reason when she saw the device in Monique's hand.

"What are you doing?!" The last work came out with an undignified squeak, but Monique ignored it as she brought the razor up to Maka's scalp and shaved away another lock of thick black hair.

Monique stood up and moved over to the other side of the hospital bed as she spoke. "You came in with some pretty serious burns on the right side of your scalp. Nothing that should cause permanent damage after treatment, but we had to shave away the hair there to debride the wound. We were nervous about starting surgery without your consent, but given the situation DCF was eventually able to give permission to proceed..." Sitting over in another chair pulled up on the other side of the room Monique pushed herself to Maka's bedside. "Now, I'm just evening it out so you don't have an awkward bald spot where the wound is. Just have to finish up with the other side-"

Memories of Mother sitting next to her and brushing the thick back-length locks flashed through Maka's mind. All the older women had loved how heavy it was, how even it stayed in the desert heat when straightened and its pliability under a lovingly applied curler. The memories still felt hollow, but far precious now than they had ever been before. Maka couldn't help but wonder when the full pain would finally hit.

"Leave it."

Maka's hand darted up, slower than it should be, with a numb prick alerting her to an IV needle sticking out of her arm. Maka recognized it from when she had volunteered with the nurses in the hospital tent for a few weeks, Mother and Papa trying to figure out where she would be most helpful before the dreams and the Sight came and Papa took her under his wing.

Monique's figure in the corner of Maka's eye took a slight tangerine tint before shifting to a thin blue. Maka wanted to rub her eyes before she remembered the needle in her arm, and could only blink a few times to clear her sight before staring at the nurse's form. This couldn't possibly be a dream, but the Sight was there-? But maybe this was a dream, maybe she fell into an illusion or something that Alcor made, maybe tomorrow would be the Offering or maybe she'd wake up and open her eyes in the temple watching all over again as everyone was mowed down by that unstoppable malice and rage and-

"Hey! Calm down. Maka, you're okay." Seeing the teen's gaze snap to hers, Monique exhaled a deep breath to prompt the girl to calm. "Whatever happened to you is done now, you're safe now. Just breathe."

The two sat there for a minute in silence, Monique just checking on Maka and Maka staring at the barely visible traces of aura until the nurse suddenly rose. "Well, given that there's no medical reason we need to fix things aesthetically so my job's done here for now. I'll be back to check on you soon, though I can't guarantee the authorities waiting outside will be as patient knowing you're awake." A grimace crossed her features, and Monique shook her head as she grabbed her clipboard.

"I'll be telling anyone who asks that you're fading in and out of consciousness. It should give you some quiet time if you need it, but given how exhausted you look I recommend that you actually do try to sleep. There's a blue call button right next to your headboard if you need anything." Monique nodded her head towards said button before walking over and unclipping and removing the foam neck brace, "Don't need that anymore. Your head may feel a bit lopsided but again, it's just the hair. Let me know if you need anything at all, and I mean _anything_." The nurse sent Maka one last kind look before exiting the room, the door swinging opening to the distant buzz of a busy hospital.

Maka closed her eyes and let out a sigh as the door clicked closed again, trying fruitlessly to catch her muddled thoughts. The teen was just about to fade off to sleep with a pop sounded above her and she felt the phantom pressure of something hovering overhead. Opening her eyes, Maka found herself face-to-face with a wide pointy grin and two inhumanly golden sclera.

A gloved hand landed on her mouth before she could scream.

Alcor's hand caught Maka's wrist as it shot out towards the call button on her bedside, his face somehow perfectly balancing a playful grin and a deep hurt at he leaned down closer from where he was suspended in the air above her bed.

"What's wrong, Mizar? Aren't you happy to see me?"


	3. Chapter 3

I'm so sorry for how late this is. I don't want to abandon any (or all is what winds up happening more often than not) of my fanfictions on this site, but the problem is that more often than not I'm super busy in real life, and the past majority of a year has had a multitude of the highest ups and worst downs that I could try to cite as excuses, but instead I'll keep this short. Thank you all for support, whether that's following this story or just reading now, and it's amazing to have things like this to turn to when I need it, so hope you enjoy this chapter as the only gift I can think to give you and the reassurance that I'll at least be always planning more!

* * *

Maka couldn't help but stare in shock at the demon suddenly leaning over her, stunned by the reminder that yes _this was real_.

Alcor's hand caught Maka's wrist as it shot out towards the call button on her bedside, his face somehow perfectly balancing a playful grin and a deep hurt as he leaned down closer from where he was suspended in the air above her bed.

"What's wrong, Mizar? Aren't you happy to see me?"

Maka was sure she would've snarled out some cutting remark she hadn't thought of yet if her mouth wasn't still smothered by Alcor's glove. In absence of the opportunity to verbally prove that she _wasn't at all afraid of this creature looming over her thank you very much_ , Maka did the next best thing.

She bit down on his hand instead.

The demon jerked his arm away from Maka, not so much from pain but out of shock. He stared at the appendage as if it was foreign to him for a second- _some of the Flock teeth, but what does it mean when humans do that again? Didn't the niblets outgrow that before this age?_ – before honing back in on Maka as she took advantage of the distraction to let out a cry, and upon realizing that wouldn't cut it, shake Alcor's distracted grip off her hand and reach for the call button again.

Alcor blipped out of reality above her and appeared in the small crack next to her bed, inhumanly contorted to squeeze into the tight space between her outstretched hand and the call button, sitting lazily next to her bed but not seeming to notice as he looked at her sheepishly, his hands pressed in front of him as if he was trying to keep her from doing something crazy.

"Hey! Calm down, kid. I can do my best to get us some privacy but yeesh, warding's really gotten better than it used to be. Wouldn't want any of those investigators outside having any more reason to get suspicious of us, now would we?" Dipper could tell the girl was still looking through him towards the bedside assistance, eyes inexplicitly dilated and slightly glassy until he noticed the IV sticking out of her arm and realized that oh yeah, humans weren't always healed as soon as they woke up.

"Maybe they'll finally get you to leave. me. alone." Mizar gritted out and Alcor paused. She hadn't sounded like that back in the temple, or at least he had thought Mizar's voice had more of its characteristic liveliness to it. But by the time he remembered that they had exchange all of a dozen words his omniscience was more than happy to correct her false statements.

"Oh really? Because you're _sure_ they won't think you had anything to do with what's happened? You were the one to **summon** me after all."

He could see the clarity melding with terror behind the delay of Mizar's foggy state and leaned forward as he took her wide-eyed face in. She had high cheekbones and an almost almond shape about her eyes that made them appear narrower than most previous Mizars, but that could easily be just the deadly glare the half-focused orbs were shooting at him…

The demon chose to ignore the look in favor of a lazy grin as he smiled back at her. "So. Now that we have a chance to finally meet _face to face_ , what's your name?" His teeth sharpened into points before Maka's eyes as he stuck a flaming hand out towards her to shake. "People call me _**Alcor**_."

Maka shoved her hands under the covers of the hospital bed. She had learned enough about demonology from Papa to know better than to shake a flaming hand.

"None of your business." She tried to twist her head away from Alcor but the demon could easily follow, curiosity filling him again as _were all humans this different from what he remembered or just Mizar?_ Her facial muscles must've still been a bit fuzzy from the pain meds as Alcor wasn't sure the girl meant to make a pout like that but it made her look so **young** as all humans did and the demon let his smirk grow into a more sincere smile (of course it maintained the playful malice that _made_ him the Dreambender) as he made up his mind on what to do with her.

"O̶f ̛ _co͡u̵rse̢_ it's my business. You're _**m̀y͢**_ Mizar. And after all," Alcor leaned forward until his nose was almost touching the young girl, completely oblivious to the small tremors rattling her body. "We're going to be spending _ļ̴o̸̧̨t̡̕s̴͢_ of time together from now on."

The demon let a hand reach out to stroke the half of her head that still had hair when he could feel the vibrations of footsteps down the hall triggering the wards he had placed on the door. He knew he could take on whatever human technology the mortals had developed in the centuries he was away, but Alcor was serious when he said it'd be easier if the police were in the dark about Mizar and what had happened there.

Flashes of too many Mizars held hostage or killed because of their relationship to him raced within his mind, and the demon unconsciously let loose a low growl at the thought of something tearing **this one** away from him before he had the chance to reconnect with his sister's soul until he noticed the girl was outright quaking in terror of the coming threat and sent her a reassuring fanged smile.

" _Wel͂ͩl̋,_ " Alcor shrugged, trying to keep his tone pleasant and failing to keep most of the reverberation out of his voice as he backed away from Mizar. "Looks like those pesky investigators decided to show up at the worst time anyway." He let himself slowly fade away bit by bit from this corporality as he dissipated the warding before anyone realize he was there. "It truly was a pl̴ęas̛ure to meet you face-to-face, Maka, and let's keep this little encounter a secret between us, okay?"

The demon winked as he zipped his fingers across his mouth and mock threw away the key, actually making the orifice disappear before leaving the room completely empty sans the giant zippered grin that floated in midair for a second like the Cheshire Cat.

Maka could feel herself fading into exhaustion in just the few seconds before the door slammed open and her momentary peace was disturbed by two suited men introducing themselves as Agents Ward and Freeman. Ward shook her awake and pulled up Monique's chair as his partner stood and wrote down notes on her responses to the myriad of questions that they asked her that she didn't know the answers to.

A tiny voice in the back of Maka's brain spoke up that she should tell them about Alcor, about what really happened back Home and about how the demon had somehow followed her all the way here and that _no matter what placating lies they told her about how she could rest and be taken care of he was still after her and she wasn't safe now_ , but a counterargument that _they couldn't do anything to stop him_ coiled in her gut sowing indecision and sewing her mouth shut.

Just like Alcor had done to himself.

* * *

The next few days passed in a blur of agents, nurses, and pain meds.

The in-between times when Maka was asleep was when she felt most lucid and least stable, given the nightmares and images that danced like fires and demons behind her eyelids. She always woke up either screaming an old friend's name or frighteningly calm and unable to remember anything after falling asleep. The latter scared her far more, since she knew from Monique that she had yet to go a night without nightmares. Thoughts of why, or more importantly _who_ was keeping them from bothering her was enough to make Maka stare blankly at the ceiling for even longer than she would fight off the imposing memories other mornings.

After a few days the doctors stopped giving her as much medicine to take, satisfied that for all that seemed to have happened in the Sonoran she was largely unscathed, assuring her that she'd have far fewer physical scars than mental ones. The world began to regain clarity, and the men in suits quickly came to fill the space for conscious thought with more and more questions.

They asked about anything from personal details about Papa to inquiries about the most basic aspects of culture _(seriously how did they_ survive _without knowing the proper wardings for Samhain?)_ to subtle probes towards rituals or demonic summonings that made Maka bite her tongue and remember that she _couldn't trust_ _ **anyone**_ **.** If these men truly were so enraptured by the irrigation techniques Tad used to water the wheat, then it was only another reminder that this world wasn't like her life back home and that any answers she already gave were probably too much.

They weren't afraid use her ties to the supernatural against her if they found out, or at least that's what Alcor said…

The demon himself had been noticeably absent, and it gave Maka relief, even though his words (at least she thought their encounter was real, but the first few days were becoming hazier as time went by) and his apparent meddling with her head every other night made it clear that he would definitely be back. Maka was scrambling to decide what exactly she would do when he showed himself again, but it was difficult without having many resources or weapons in her room to use or knowing anyone she could talk to and get on her side. And sadly, after her botched attempt at an Offering, the Master would likely only ignore her as the failure she was, especially without the strength to take down any sacrifices to appease him here.

And if it came down between Alcor and the Agents, Maka wasn't yet sure who she should trust. As much as she wanted to believe the demon was lying, she could sense how nervous Monique would get whenever Maka's past or the supernatural in general came up while she was tending to her, both by seeing the nurse's expressive reactions and by the shift in the myriad of colors faintly haloing her aura.

Yes, the Sight hadn't just been a fluke of how out-of-it Maka was that first day. At least she thought it wasn't, although the question still remained of whether she was still dreaming. After all, ever since the Nightmare (thinking of any details made her quake, and while the moniker she gave the incident still made Maka's heart skip a beat, it was better than giving time for details or flashbacks to reoccur) the lines between what felt like real life and what was a dream had been more and more blurred.

But ever since waking up in the hospital Maka could see the faint outlines of emotions surrounding those who came to visit, from Monique's expressive magentas as the woman told a story to the dull rose of another attendant pityingly asking if she needed to talk (Maka meekly replied with a 'no thank you,' after a five hour session with Ward she wasn't in the mood), to the almost invisible composure of said Agent hours earlier. Maka sometimes told herself that maybe it was just that the oppressive white background making the auras stand out, as they were so faint she could almost pretend they weren't there, but they existed, although weaker than in Maka's dreams when she was a child, and the thought that she had somehow fundamentally changed since the Nightmare made her feel cold and distant.

Maka was still waiting for the grief to hit.

She had panicked, numerously. There had been a night when she woke up gasping and was unable to focus on anyone until Monique ran into the room, explaining that she was still in residency when the teen shot her a questioning look of what she was doing in a nightgown to calm her (to be fair, it did look similar enough to scrubs that none of the other staff in the hospital questioned it). There were times when one of Agent Ward's questions hit too close and Maka'd freeze up for a minute or complete forget what had they'd been talking about.

But Maka had yet to truly _cry_. To miss and grieve everyone she'd lost. At first she blamed it on the situation, on Alcor and the agents and even Monique and everyone coming in and disturbing her so she didn't have a moment's rest. But after a week she found that'd she'd often have waking hours to herself, and when she frustratingly abandoned the topic of trying to imagine what kind of runes she could carve underneath her hospital bracelet to aid in a daring escape plan, Maka often found herself staring at the blank doorway and waiting for the tidal wave of emotions to hit her. They never did, and the teenager often found the few tears she could squeeze out when she tried were in self-loathing: what right did she have to be as empty as these white walls?

It was in one of these times when Maka was just sitting there thinking (Monique had gotten her a book to read, some sappy romance that Maka simply didn't have interest in after all that was going on now) that Agents Ward and Freeman walked in with a third man, also wearing a suit, behind them. He managed to make the black suit look even more formal than the federal agents, yet was clearly comfortable in it as he relaxed into the wall next to the door, eying her and not even noticing as Freeman attempted to wave him forward.

"Well, Maka," Agent Ward coughed into his fist, and Maka couldn't help but focus in on the funny way his bushy moustache twitched behind his hand. "We're just about done with all of the preliminary questions we have for you and the hospital staff say that you're well enough to be released, so this now brings up the question of where you'll be living for the foreseeable future."

Maka suddenly felt her attention jolt to the man's look as butterflies kicked up in her stomach. The future had certainly been on her mind when it had time to stray from the past, and while it was obvious that patients didn't seem to live at the hospital for extended periods of time, Maka was terrified to admit that she had no real picture of what the world was like out there, only that it must be substantially different from back Home. Monique had been able to offer glimmers of insight, but couldn't truly help: the woman stumbled when Maka asked about things she obviously took for granted, like bartering and traveling far distances in what must be exaggeratedly short amounts of time, and the innocently piercing queries she would ask about Home for comparison quickly dragged any conversation to a grinding halt.

To be fair, a good part of Maka's reasoning figured that she wouldn't have the chance to experience the world anyway. Alcor's threat, or _promise_ as she realized he must consider it, made it clear that the demon was going to come back to ensure they spent _'lots of time together'_ and whether that meant taking her away to who-knows-where or finishing the job the girl frankly hadn't fully believed that she would get to this point.

Agent Ward's crisp voice interrupted Maka's thoughts and brought her back to the situation.

"Anyway," the agent coughed again, fidgeting more than Maka had ever seen him as he sent a glance back to the third man by the door, who didn't even make eye contact as he continued to watch Maka's expression. "Ever since the story of your, um, situation, made the news we've had lots of volunteers happy to help take you in, and the gentleman here with me is one of them." He gestured towards the man leaning there, who still didn't acknowledge the action.

"Maka, this is Mr. Allen Card. He's going to be your foster father." Finally the man, Allen Card, gave Maka a small smile and a wave.

Something in Maka's expression must've given away some of the anxiety starting to bubble in her stomach at the unfamiliar word followed by Father because Agent Ward suddenly felt talkative enough to cut the silence. "That means that he'll be taking care of you until someone chooses to adopt you or you're old enough to take care of yourself. Once we get you checked out of here you'll be going to live with him and we can start to get things heading back towards normalcy." – a dark part of Maka wanted to chuckle at the thought. Normally was a long ways back from here in the Sonoran.

"Don't worry, Maka. Mr. Card is at the top of all of our lists." For the first time in all the time Maka saw him an emotion other than the sliding scale of awkward to profession crossed Agent Ward's expression, and he looked almost comforting. "You'll like him, he's a good-hearted man."

And Maka couldn't help but take a glance at the man's aura after hearing the phrase, only to find that it wasn't the same as everyone else's in the room.

The air around the man was blurry, the fuzzy edges of the Sight clashing rather than melding with the real world as the edges constantly waded in all direction from Mr. Card. The aura extended enough even to clash with his visible features rather than merely the white background, giving Maka the sense that if she tried to look too closely she would have to focus on either him or the rest of the world and let the other blur.

It made Maka's eyes blink fast. Too fast.

And the color around Allen Card wasn't a color Maka had seen in an aura before. It wasn't even really a color; it was black the way that black represents either an oversaturation of every element or a void incapable of holding light.

There were flecks of color that flashed across it like solar flares with the myriad of emotion constantly dancing across a mind. Care for her that bordered just slightly off sympathy, irritation at the time all this paperwork and red tape was taking, worry at the sudden lack of movement and rapid shallow breaths coming from… her.

It was that shock that made Maka realize she was reading way too much out of these emotions, emotions she should only be guessing at the meaning of each color of. But there was no need to guess when they were all the same color. There was no emotion that Allen Card felt that wasn't portrayed by various patterns of gold on black like stars flickering across the night sky.

 _Allen Card_ 's emotions… _black and gold_ … _Allen Card. Al Card._ A-

 _ **Alcor.**_

Maka flinched back into her bed at the realization, only duly noting how tense she must've been as the small shock instigated a full tremor. _Alcor was coming for her and he's pretending to be a human and of course he knows how to play the system and what could she even say about it? what is the system even like in this place? is the entire world outside the hospital just demon territory? of course it could be if they don't even ward for Samhain and was he just going to take her away to the hellfire that the world is bathed in or did he set aside some special place where they would spend that 'lots of time together'? and was he even planning on following the human system or would she have just nearly walked out the door with a demon and disappeared?_

Would she _still_ walk out the front door with a demon and just disappear?

It's not like she even had the breath to voice her concerns with how fast she's breathing. Maka couldn't find the strength to catch the air as it kept pumping in and out of her lungs.

" _There's something wrong with her! I want to help her!"_ A black form, a demonic form reached for her and Maka felt herself slipping on whatever grips she was trying to hold.

" _Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."_ A tilt of his head, **Alcor's** head towards the human, and a small snarl that looked just like when he turned towards all of those people that day.

" _Maka! Maka?!"_ Monique's voice drifting in, dark hands in an iron grip holding her, shaking her _or maybe it was just her shaking_ feeling like a vice compared to how weak Maka's body suddenly felt, her mind fighting to scream at the demon in front of her even weaker as the light-headedness and butterflies spread from her head and stomach into a painful tingling in her fingers and toes.

She couldn't tell if Alcor left. There wasn't the black suit or the (in retrospect tell-tale) mop of dark brown hair but there was the blurry blackness of his aura everywhere. But this time it didn't seem to be covering an object in the real world as much as her field of vision and it was spreading just like the tingling and making the entire white room seem faded and dark until it was everywh…


End file.
